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meadowlarking2019-11-20 05:33 pm
TEST DRIVE MEME 007
Welcome to the Meadowlark test drive meme! After waking up in strange and rather worrisome conditions, characters will need to begin to live their lives in this new world. All TDM threads take place after the arrival process, so please assume that the initial adjustment period has passed – in which the characters were found after being dropped off in a random part of the city and had to live in a safehouse for four days before hitting the streets. Now it's time to see the bright sights and sounds that New Amsterdam – and beyond – has to offer.
All Meadowlark test drive memes will not be game canon because of the nature of our arrival logs. Please feel free to carry on relationships that make sense, but please keep in mind that the TDM may not reflect current circumstances in game.
All applicants can use threads from the TDM for their samples.
NOTE: The PCs have chosen to call themselves "the Displaced," and that's become the common parlance to refer to them.
There is very little that can smooth over the experience of your arrival in this world. Coming to your senses in a van, drugged and restrained, only to be carefully helped out by the unknown guards and nurses and then abandoned in an alleyway. What comes after is relatively straightforward: you're found by others and taken back to a safehouse that is hidden under an old hover bike shop. You aren't the first group that this has happened to: there are others not from this world who have experienced the same, with no recollection of how they came here. Like you, they have few answers about what's happened to them. Maybe this knowledge brings you a growing sense of futility, or perhaps it inspires a deeper determination in you. But even as you begin to think on what to do next, life has to go on.
All of the new arrivals will be given a fake ID and a background that will lend them access to entry-level jobs. It may be overwhelming, but their fellow Displaced have found their footing enough to be able to help the newcomers. Two Morningstar agents will be around to take care of world integration and IDs – the rest will fall to the Displaced who arrived before. It would take at least a month's wages to put down a deposit on even the smallest apartment in the city, so everyone has a grace period before they have to leave the safehouse – and then some, depending on the kindness of who's running the show.
Morningstar's veteran agents will also make their purpose clear if asked: they are a group dedicated to fighting corruption and righting the wrongs of this world, though they're in the process of rebuilding the organization's branch in New Amsterdam from scratch, and they know that the people in charge of those efforts wouldn't mind a little help. It will be made expressly clear that this entire arrangement to get the Displaced situated in the world is meant to be kept a secret, and that especially includes Morningstar's assistance. Letting the world know about their involvement could cause big problems.
> EXPLORE THE CHANGES
Despite the lack of answers about why you're here, your fellow Displaced will be able to give you a rundown of the changes they've recognized in each other. Anyone who had powers before will find them gone. Anyone who was once an AI or in a completely artificial body will find that their current body is now fully human. Those with cybernetics will find that they've remained mostly untouched, though any primitive ones may be replaced with temporary ones that are improvements on the previous models.
◉ NEW ABILITIES. In the place of any powers that were lost, there is now a new power. These abilities are unique to each of the Displaced and seem to update over a certain period of time, with the changes appearing thanks to critical emotional events. One thing that's apparent is that the power seems to be linked to the Displaced individual's personality or life before this one, shaped according to who they happen to be. When this power appears, their chest glows with a blue light that shines from their sternum, and it can be triggered by anything: natural inclination or a moment of great stress. If someone's out in public when this happens, they might want to duck under cover lest the blue glow from their chest and the unusual power's appearance draws unwanted attention.
◉ EMPATHY BOND. No matter the circumstances or the conditions, every skin-to-skin touch of the Displaced triggers this empathy bond. Whether they touch hands, brush cheeks, or knock into one another on accident, they'll be met with the emotions of the person they've touched. Every instance of skin-to-skin contact will trigger an immediate empathic bond, letting you feel the other person's emotions and vise versa. While there's nothing that can be done to completely prevent this, someone can either decide to hold on and continue sharing that level of emotional intimacy, or let go and end the shockingly vulnerable exchange. If someone is particularly tactile but not fond of sharing their emotions, they might want to invest in a fashionable pair of gloves.
◉ MEMORY SHARE. Through a recent event, the Displaced unlocked the ability to share memories similarly to how they can share emotions. While unknown at first, the Displaced soon learned that they could share a memory with each other the same way they could share emotions. All they need to do is focus on a memory and touch the skin of their fellow Displaced, and then they could pass this experience along. These memories are shared through the eyes of the giver, granting the receiver a unique insight into the thoughts, feelings, and sensations during a specific moment in their life.
◉ DREAM SHARING. Once one, two, or five Displaced fall asleep, they may be able to find each other in their dreams. These dreams lead to the dreamers themselves feeling lucid and somewhat in control of their surroundings—though the control itself is ultimately dependent on the dreamer and how well they come around to understanding what's going on. Dream logic applies with the flow of time, but no one is able to spend their entire lives there. Lost powers are still gone for any of the Displaced, but they can use their dreams to practice any new ability that they've received. Memory shares and empathy bonds are just as possible within these shared dream states—if anyone doubts that another Displaced is really there, they can test the empathy bond to see if it activates.
◉ POWER SHARES AND UNIONS. The Displaced can share something of themselves with another Displaced by offering them an object that comes out of their chest. This object is meant to be symbolic of the person it comes from and significant to them in some way. When someone else takes hold of this object, they will get a sense of the owner's essence, along with temporary access to their in-game ability. Only when they give the item back do they give up the power in question. In addition, the Displaced are able to act in unison and create a fusion of their powers, making it so they can fight someone else with them at once. This ability is there from day one, but the power's ability will only ever present at its current stage.
> THE NETWORK
When the Displaced first showed up, Morningstar set up a private network for all of the Displaced to use in order to communicate. Most of the veteran Displaced are old hands at using the implant now, and will be happy to provide any necessary information on how to utilize this new tool and understand its application in daily life.
Early on, every newcomer receives access to the encrypted network, only available to you and the others like you, making contact between you easy and safe. Familiarize yourself with this network and dig in. Perhaps you're hoping to find some bigger answers, ask about the current nail polish trends in New Amsterdam, or want to play a game of "hot or not" among the Displaced.
◉ IDENTIFICATION. Everyone who gets set up with an ID gets access to Morningstar's network. In order to ensure that none of the Displaced stand out like sore thumbs, Morningstar's agents El and Gaby ensure that everyone has a name that makes it so they fit in among society. All usernames are thusly formed as firstname.lastname, with some room for creativity (Ziggy Stardust had a brief cameo, after all).
◉ PRIVATE COMMUNICATION. There are private, one-on-one modes of communication available as well, though without the security of Morningstar's encryptions, they're much less safe. You can make calls, send texts, make videos, and even interact with others in a VR simulation—however, it's made very clear that the government has a means of tracking this communication. Big brother is always watching.
The day of April 26th is known to all United Nations citizens: it's Resolution Day. To everyone around the world, it's the day when the last known AI lifeforms were completely eradicated in 2101. While some might say that it's the day that the UN claimed victory over the AI, to people the world over it's the day that humanity managed to keep themselves from being wiped out. Little will be said in detail about the holiday itself, but a remedial bit of research will cover the six-year-long Xelkoven War between humans and AI. The war itself was started when the home security unit AI Elysian killed 50 households full of people, and the war itself was named after the largest artificial intelligence distributor at the time: Xelkov. Ultimately, a billion humans died in the war, and there was the very real risk that the rest of humanity could have followed if they hadn't devised a method to put down the AI for good.
The citywide celebration of Resolution Day starts early and finishes very late, so whether you choose to join in the fun, learn more about the history of the festival, or take advantage of the revelry for other, more nefarious goals, you'll have plenty of time.
As the festival sprawls wildly throughout the streets of New Amsterdam, it gives even the most desolate parts of the city new life with bright lights, noise, and plenty of food. Most businesses are closed for the day, but not all of them—if you've gotten yourself a restaurant, street cleaning, or corporate PR job, you might find yourself stuck on a double shift. Better snatch what small moments of enjoyment you can!
> ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES
Anything you'd think would be at a festival in the year 2512 is definitely at this festival. Food, games, dancing, alcohol, free stuff? It's all there for your enjoyment. While the city streets will be full of people, this isn't a bad day to try networking. Want to get a new job or find a way to pry some information out of someone when they're least likely to remember you? Try to butter them up—or use the powers you've been granted to get your way. If anything goes badly, at least you can slip back into the crowd.
◉ GAMES. Care to play a game? All attendees can play for free. Some games —like the hoverblade racing, the augmented reality fightboxes, and the street-wide bouts of laser tag—require a partner or a competitor, so you better hope someone's willing to do you a solid or bring out your competitive side. For anyone who's interested in something a little less hands-on, all of the city's biggest VR arcades will have setups with all the latest games. Hoping to get noticed for your gaming talent? This might not be the day to try to stand out, but anyone's down to try.
◉ FOOD TRUCKS. It's time to try the delicacies of New Amsterdam. Hundreds of food trucks have turned out today in droves with high hopes that they'll come away turning a profit. Down for some Mexi-German fusion? Or perhaps you're hoping that pad thai still tastes the same with grasshoppers? Share your food – or give away whatever you don't like. Food trucks are the hub of activity, and the busiest ones might be worth the time, but you'll be standing in line for a while.
◉ NETWORKING. There are other opportunities with the city being flooded with festival-goers. Whether someone is on a mission to try to test the current sentiments toward Morningstar or simply wants to charm some corporate execs, this might be the time to get it done. Whatever your cover story is, make it good. Whether you claim you're hoping to pitch an idea for some new tech or are more interested in seducing – or squeezing – some information out of them, following them into the next bar or karaoke booth may give you the perfect chance. But you might want a lookout to watch your back, a co-conspirator to keep them plied with drinks, or maybe you'll need a voice of reason to stop you from squeezing too hard. Discretion is the name of the game. Everyone can agree upon that.
> HISTORY LESSONS
Aside from your typical booths of free samples, charitable causes, volunteer applications, and white chocolate-covered beetles, you'll find an opportunity to learn about Resolution Day’s history. There are various stands available where—thanks to the augmented reality application of your neural implant—you can view videos about the origins of the festival and the reasons for celebrating. If you haven't done your initial search yourself, you'll be able to buff up on it here.
◉ VR SIMULATIONS. If you'd like to feel like a hero, the UNA are running several virtual reality simulations where you can be taken to the battlefield to fight alongside fellow soldiers, working to bring the outwardly robotic AI to submission. The virtual reality simulation interacts with your neural implant to give you the most realistic experience possible. If you don't ground yourself enough, you'll be certain that the sights, sounds, and smells around you are real as you march in formation toward the brutality waiting up ahead. Feel free to team up with a partner on a side mission, or maybe try to keep someone from plugging in for what could be a traumatic experience. Eerie, heart-wrenching music plays when you die, but is promptly followed by the image of several corporate logos reminding you that they sponsored this day and this event.
◉ SYMPATHIZERS. If you're uncomfortable with the concept of eradicating all AI, no one will understand why. AI sympathizers are not present among the native population. Everyone in this world has been raised with the understanding that AI only wanted to destroy humanity, and that everyone is lucky to be alive in spite of it. They have a deeply ingrained fear, and anyone claiming to formerly be an AI or android won't receive a very friendly response.
Traveling down from the hectic main city streets reveals a different side from the gloss and promise of New Amsterdam. Economic disparity runs rampant throughout the city, and many people are pushed to desperation, looking to find other ways to make ends meet. In the darker shadows, many illegal activities thrive, out of view of the authorities—or perhaps known and supported by corrupt individuals. Maybe you're out exploring, completing a task for Morningstar, or working a job in the place you excel. Whatever brought you to the rougher parts of town, you may want to watch your step, or else find the city eating you as it has so many others.
> ORGANIZED CRIME
Organized crime still has a strong foothold in the world, with gangs and more established families working with drugs, weapons, property, and black market cybernetics, to name a few. These organizations are sprawling units that regularly recruit new members into their ranks, so long as they can prove themselves by passing the intensive hazing. While there are two main mob entities in New Amsterdam—the Riverstone Mob and the Petrov Family—there are a handful of gangs that otherwise roam the streets. Some are loosely sponsored by the mob, while others are fledgling groups trying to gain clout. More than anything, these groups know they don't have the power of the corporations or government, and do everything to seize more power when they can.
◉ JOINING UP. Catching the eye of the mob is difficult, but not impossible. Getting into the larger gangs is less difficult, but they're still wary of anyone who doesn't know the ins and outs of how to duck surveillance, traffic drugs and supplies, and intimidate people without catching flack from the NAPD. The best way to start getting attention is through their clubs, casinos, and illegal gambling dens. Getting inside isn't always easy: it might take a few weeks of legwork to get an invite, but someone could try to strongarm their way inside or use some chicanery to make it a smoother endeavor.
◉ ESCAPE PLAN. Whether you went in to cause trouble or accidentally caused it by breathing the wrong way, it's good to have an escape plan in place. Does that mean fighting all the goons available? Maybe. What about stealing a hover bike and getting away? The good news is that hover bikes can fit where hover cars can't.If you've got the skills, you'll be able to weave through the chaos of the city and make a clean getaway. Just don't let the chase run for too long, or you'll have law enforcement on your ass as well.
> FIGHT CLUB
No matter the occasion outside, New Amsterdam's fight club events are held every evening. The bouncers at the door don't have too many scruples on who they let inside. All they care about is whether someone has the money to pay the cover charge.
The interior of the fight club reveals the sophistication of a business that's used to uprooting itself regularly. All the fights take place in a large cage in the center, and you remain on your feet while you enjoy the show. There is a special VIP section if you've been lucky enough to receive an invite or bribe your way in – just keep in mind that these invites are scarce, and you will have to have done something spectacular to earn the attention from someone high up the food chain. Regardless of where you end up, there is one rule: what happens in the fight club stays in the fight club. This tenant is law, and everyone's heard stories of the different (and sometimes extreme) lengths that have been taken to maintain it.
◉ FIGHT. It's time to sign up and test your chops against other fighters. Many of the fighters boast illegal cybernetic enhancements, so it would be a really good idea to have someone on hand who knows some first aid. Fights can either happen in duos or in one-on-ones depending on the signups for the evening.
◉ RINGSIDE CHAT. You might just want to enjoy the show, or use the opportunity to grill the bartenders for information. Just be careful not to make a fool of yourself. Asking too many questions might catch the wrong kind of attention – the kind that might find you being thrown into the ring, whether you wanted to be there or not. For all the blood spilled, these fight clubs thrive on discretion, so whatever you do, try to keep it quiet.
Life in New Amsterdam was once all festivals and people avoiding association with organized crime. Life in New Amsterdam these days is full of drama, citywide disturbances, and everything else that might be expected of an action film in progress. While there aren't many answers for what's happened to the Displaced, there is enough chaos going around that it seems like it may be connected to their arrivals.
The worst part is that New Amsterdam seems to struggle. Rather than being an anonymous backdrop to those action films, New Amsterdam is a bustling city full of life that never asked to be at the heart of this. When trouble hits, most repairs and restorations focus on helping those with money, while others are left forgotten living in tents and hoping for a helping hand. Recent circumstances have called for improvements in this area—there is more charitable work than ever before in New Amsterdam—but it's still a trying time.
Where the Displaced stand in all of this varies, but it's hard to ignore a city in trouble.
◉ DISPLACED VERSUS DISPLACED. Whether it's by manipulation of an outside force or through inhaling weird monster gas, sometimes the Displaced are at odds with one another. When some of these few heroes are fighting, it means that the city can be left in even greater danger. Other times, the Displaced might not be able to control themselves. Feeling a sudden surge of vengeance and hoping to follow through on it? That monster gas might be the cause. Want to finish out a nasty deal to get something back important? The monster gas won't be an excuse, but maybe someone can pretend it was. Life as a Displaced is wild sometimes.
◉ THE UNITED NATIONS ARMY. In fact, it's so wild that sometimes they come up against the extremely dangerous soldiers of the UNA. These soldiers are the military arm of the United Nations government. They aren't the average soldier, however. Dressed in thick black armor that acts as an exoskeleton for their bodies, they are basically invulnerable to any and all attacks. When fighting as a unit, they work perfectly in unison, making it so that they can quickly move to deny almost any and all attacks. They're also extremely resistant to any mental or emotional compulsion or manipulation, making them hard nuts to crack. Ready for a bossfight? They're the soldiers for it.
◉ MONSTERS. As for unconventional threats, there are the monsters. These creatures first turned up in giant form when the first batch of Displaced arrived, stomping all over New Amsterdam. The less unique version of the monsters are around 400m high, have lizard-like features, and tend to show up by tearing down a portion of New Amsterdam's city wall. And that's the less unique version. More unique monsters vary in size and make, seeming to be an amalgamation of a number of different creatures. Half-snake, half-dog? Seems odd, but it happens. The one consistent feature of all these monsters is they all have golden irises. Suffice to say that running into these creatures could be a problem.
Feel free to branch out and explore! Visit a doctor about some advanced cybernetics. Sneak through the city checkpoints and set out into the wilderness. Try to hop on a train bound for one of the world's five spaceports to see one of the colonies—though bear in mind the cost and difficulty of one of these joy rides. Experiment with some insect based versions of your favorite recipes. Perhaps you'd prefer to engage in some illegal street racing, spend some time getting used to the technology, or try to become a social media celebrity. Use the SETTING for inspiration and choose your own adventure!
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[Ginia's smile is a lazy smirk, another deliberate pan down and up with her eyes. Flirting is fun, but it's a test as much as the rest of the conversation. Toe the line, look for the things that work and don't, reassess and regroup.
The reality is there are unknown levels of tech and people from a multitude of worlds with unknown modifications. As far as she can tell, all the nanotech reinforcing her skeleton, her joints, her muscles are there in some way. She still moves fast, still hits hard, but her perspective of what's strong and fast adjust with every fight she sees.
He has an easy weakness to exploit. That's also assuming he's not holding back on purpose and hiding something else.
This will be interesting.]
There's space in the warm up area. See you there?
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In this world, he just gives her a slow smile. It's not nice at all, with the scars, but maybe she won't begrudge him that. ]
Is that a promise?
[ He can say the words and get the inflection just about right, but there's no real intent there. He doesn't like touching people these days. It's different in a fight. Violence is easy. ]
Oh, yeah. I'll be there.
[ See if she's as good a fighter as she's implying. Sharkface hasn't fought anyone out of armor for a while, but he's a survivor through and through. If this is what it takes to get an ally, then they'll fight. He doesn't intend to play fair, either. And, looking the woman up and down, he doubts she will either. Something in the way her eyes go hard around the edges. ]
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It's nothing fancy in the warm up room; just another concrete room for people to slug each other in. There are a few weight sets, punching bags, benches and chairs to rest at. The kind of room that's easy to set up and tear down. A few people are warming up or cooling down from a fight. They pay no mind as Ginia marks out a makeshift arena with a few chairs.
In whatever time she has before Sharkface arrives, Ginia winds her ponytail into a bun and pins it down as much she can. She sheds her jacket and stretches, surveying the room with a calm air.]
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It's harder without the armor. People look at his face and think they know him. The captain always said he telegraphed too much. And the named he picked to fuck with the Freelancers won't serve him here. It's too obvious.
Not that his given name is much better. Terrence Ephemera. Temporary. A bad joke he kept out of spite.
But that's for later. He ambles up when he's good and ready, refreshed and ready to go another round. No need to pull the blows now.
He gives her a nod and vague grin. She's got her hair up, jacket off. Sharkface is still wearing the same clothes he fought in. The shirt is long sleeved, covering up most of his tattoos. Only the rings across his fingers are still visible. ]
Let's do this.
[ He stretches once, reaching his arms up to the ceiling and then swinging them back down again, getting loose.
Yeah. This'll be good. Nice and brutal. ]
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Should she borrow gloves for someone? It's a brief consideration fueled by how much she hates the flash of emotions on skin-to-skin contact. Well, they're both covered enough and if either of them are taking hits to the face, should have kept their guard up.
So let's do this. Ginia gives a lazy roll of her head and shoulders, steps into the makeshift perimeter. Once he's, she'll make the first move. Always a risky thing taking the first move in direct combat. A good hit can end the fight, but it can also telegraph too much. It's against what her specialty is - long range, covert - but she's the one who threw out the offer.
Ginia goes in toward his left side. She feigns a punch, sliding away to try to move behind him to deliver an elbow strike. Her movements are fast and efficient, nothing showy, no hesitation.]
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Sharkface grins, and sidesteps. Goes for her instep, stomping down hard, and aims for her chest. See if he can knock the breath out of her.
He doesn't bother pulling the blow. This is a demonstration, like anything else. He'll show what he can do. ]
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The blow to the chest is the bigger threat, but a foot injury would definitely ruin her day. Ginia quickly gauges the risk to getting off balance as she blocks his stomp by pushing against his leg with her shin. The punch to the chest is dodged by dropping and twisting aside, rising up with a driving punch to the gut with her left fist.
Her expression doesn't change as she reacts to his attacks. Fighting is a matter of fact and a thing she can do. Respect to a good fighter and fight when she's an observer, survive another day when she's in the middle of it. That he's grinning isn't unnoticed.]
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Sharkface grins and soldiers on. It would've been smarter to block the hit to his gut, but he doesn't. He takes it to prove that he can, and though he grunts, he doesn't flinch at all. Back in the day he trained as the squad's utility fighter, able to take on any role as needed. Things are a little different now.
These days, he takes blows and takes them hard, but he never, ever goes down.
She hits him. He grins, and goes for a headbutt. ]
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A fleeting thought, a faint twitch of the corner of her mouth. She throws solid punches, if he can soak it without budging, okay, she can respect that. But no time for idle thoughts in a fight.
A headbutt is largely a reckless move that can be devastatingly effective. The forehead is tough fucker and the face soft and squishy. Broken nose, cracked teeth, bitten tongue, there's a lot a headbutt can do.
There are a lot of ways to deflect a headbutt. Ginia opts for meeting it directly. Her head drops, chin tucking in and bracing for impact as their foreheads collide.
Ginia is calm externally, but there's controlled anger under the surface, a rolling storm with something to prove, a drive to survive. There's a sliver of fear because she's gone up against opponents and lost and it's gone poorly, and right now she doesn't have a knife or a gun or even a broken glass wrapped in torn cloth.
And as she remembers the goddamn empathic bond, a burst of raw shock and fury is transmitted too. Perhaps enhanced as Ginia raises her hands and shoves back on his face, thumbs aimed at his eyes.]
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That won't stand.
The rage is such a familiar companion that he doesn't immediately recognize it as strange. Why would he? But it kicks him into a different gear and he snarls, barreling forward. She's going for his face, but Sharkface is heavier. He'll push her back, fuck up her footing. If he gets her off balance then he'll knock her flat. ]
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She's already drawn blood, going for his face and just missing his eye. It'll hurt later, when the adrenaline wears off. Sharkface bares his teeth and grabs for her hair. The moment he gets a good grip he'll wrench. Get her down on the ground, where speed won't matter. ]
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Every brush against skin worsens the volatile mix. Rage, anger, fear. Rage, anger, fear. The emotions swirl out of her and into him, compounding against what feeds back. The other noise in the room is drowned out by the rapid beat of her heart, the whoosh of breath as she sucks in air. Pain is a detriment, but pain grounds as she tries to grapple against her emotions, trying to remember what this began as.]
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Humans, he's found, were always the worst enemy. He hates those few he's gathered, those murderers, in a way he's never hated the Covenant.
One of his fingers snaps. The sound is loud, more startling than the pain, which he barely feels.
Win or die.
He almost goes for her throat. No one expects a bite, not really, and he's used to the taste of blood; it won't shock him, won't throw him. But the thought of killing her does, suddenly, and Sharkface releases his grip with a hiss, shoving her back. ]
Fuck!
[ He's breathing hard, adrenaline pounding. They've gathered an audience. People are staring. And he doesn't know this woman, but he just thought about going for her throat and that isn't right. He doesn't know her. He doesn't know her but a moment ago he hated her in the way he hates the Freelancers, and that isn't right. ]
Stop. Enough.
[ He signs the words, voice gone shaky with adrenaline. This isn't right. ]
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Sadness. A lot of sadness. A lot of shame. Ginia sucks in a shaky breath as she swipes a hand over her sweaty face. Already bad enough with a broken finger. Could have gotten even worse fast. She doesn't fight fair, he doesn't either, it's not hard to imagine the continued trajectory. Fuck.]
Sorry.
[A fist to her chest, a slow circular movement. Ginia looks at him, tears threatening to sting her eyes as regret sinks in. She repeats the sign again and again, head hanging as she tries to bleed off her the excess emotions, wrestle things back into control.]
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He would have, he realizes. There'd been no room for rational thought, with that anger. He would have killed her without a second thought, or tried to. A stranger, when all they'd wanted was to spar.
It's dangerous, to be so completely out of control. You fucking psychopath.The shame hits him next, too hard to tap down entirely.
Sharkface shakes himself again, and then takes his broken finger in hand and snaps it back into place.
It hurts, but not that much. Not compared to everything else. ]
You injured?
[ He signs that, too. It feels safer than speaking. ]
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He could have killed her. That she recognizes in some degree, might even contemplate it later when she's trying to sleep. She could have killed him too. A complete stranger. That thought will keep her up more.
Ginia looks up in time to watch him snap his finger back into place. Doesn't flinch at the sight, though her mouth turns in frown. Yeah. She's been there before. Fingers, shoulder, yeah. Been there. Done that.]
I'm fine.
[Physically, at least. Maybe the headbutt will bruise, maybe she'll have a goose egg in an hour, but she's not thinking about that now. He's the one with a broken finger, a scratched up face.]
Let me make it up to you. Food or drinks or...
[The signs come out in an impulsive rush. It feels dumb, hollow, Ginia wouldn't blame him at all if he just wants to walk away.]
Whatever makes this right.
[If there's even a way to. If there's even a point in trying to fix things.]
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He stares at her for a long moment. ]
Okay.
[ He can't think of anything else to do. There's no changing what happened, so there's nothing to do but move forward and hope the mistake won't be repeated.
God, he's tired now. Part of him just wants to stagger off and pass out somewhere dark, but that won't change anything. And part of him, the part that still likes people, sometimes, does want to try and fix this. ]
Okay. We can. Get food.
[ His signing is halting, clumsy. He's out of practice and it shows. But the rage and fear from moments earlier were familiar and slotted so easily into his brain that they might have come from him, and not a stranger. They have that in common, at least.
That, and the ability to hurt people. He has a feeling they're both very good at that. But there was more to him once, even if there isn't anymore, and maybe, maybe he can pretend to be a person for a little while. Maybe that would be okay. ]
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[The sign is signed a bit absently, hand bobbing as she nods. Ginia smiles nervously, eyes lighting up a little, tension escaping her shoulders.]
Okay.
[She's glad he accepted, for whatever it means. It's a chance to make things right. Even if they never see each other again, it balances things out. Life is suffering and she'll never be rid of guilt, but it could be one less thing haunting her.
Assuming she doesn't fuck it up further. It's not like she knows what food is around. There were food stalls around, but maybe they're closed up now. It could easily be them wandering aimlessly or a tense taxi ride and... Ginia barely stops herself from overthinking. It cannot be more of a disaster than it already is.
Ginia's hands wring together as she looks at him. They maybe aren't that different. There's a scary thought. (There's a sad thought.)]
I'm Angela.
[The lie is effortless. New name, new identity. Ginia hoped she'd be able to reinvent herself here, in a city not too different in the best and worst ways. Maybe some things are inescapable.]
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Ephemera.
[ It takes him too long to answer. She's smart enough to pick up on that, despite all the shit that just happened. But it's not a lie, precisely, even if it feels like one. No one ever called him Terrence, but he was Ephemera to a few specific people who loved him, and who are now gone.
He hopes none of it shows on his face. He was always shitty at that part, telegraphing too much. Leaving himself open to the attack. ]
We should get out of here.
[ They've made a scene. Smart move is to bolt and avoid getting cornered. ]
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Let's go.
[Ginia grabs her jacket off the chair and slings it over a shoulder. Most of the crowd has gone back to their own business; the few still watching she ignores. Once more she walks off, setting a path, expecting him to follow at his leisure. There's a small twitch of anxiety turning her back on him, but if he wanted her dead, he had the chance. He had the offensive advantage. Could have snapped her neck. Crushed or tore out her throat.
But he didn't and she doubt he'll try again. Not without a good reason.
Well. Best not give him one.
The ready room bleeds into a hall and then out into a lot behind an alley. A few people loiter around, drinking, chatting. It's cold outside. Bracing in a way that makes Ginia miss her nanite-driven thermoregulation, but it's refreshing. Ginia sucks in a breath of cold air that hurts all the way down to her lungs, exhales and watches the cloud twist and dissipate.
She looks at Ephemera, smiles nervously, signing rapidly. Small talk is not her thing, but now she feels the need to fill time and space, work out the last of her energy.]
Thought we'd try the food carts out front. Got to be good if no one's driven them off. But if there's something specific you want, I'm all ears. I'm not a picky eater.
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Military, maybe. She's got the control for it, the right bearing. Not arrogant enough to be an officer, bit too flashy for a regular grunt. Something else.
Maybe like him. It's a strange thought. ]
Something hot. I eat everything.
[ He's got no allergies and literally anything is better than MREs or shitty prison food. ]
Got some money. Might as well spend it.
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She begins walking again. Just one more alley to get through. She falls back to walk alongside him. Easier to sign at him, keep an eye on him. The alley is just wide enough for two to walk through; a careful driver could get a car through. Her eyes are always moving, marking out the structures and framework above, of any movement ahead or shifts in shadows. Her strides are long, confident, soft in the way of someone who tread unnoticed.]
I should thank you. Came out a bit richer betting on your fights.
[The brawny newcomer with a scarred face is usually a good one to bet on. A confirmed safe bet after his first round. She's still made more fighting in the ring, but gambling is a good way to learn the ins and outs of ringside politics too.]
Going to keep it up?
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He gives her a little smile. Less flashy than the grin from earlier. It doesn't pull on his scars so much. ]
Always glad to be of service.
[ He's too tired for play-flirting. They're just signing at each other, two almost-strangers who nearly tore each other apart over nothing. Reminds him of the war, a little, and how quickly enemies could become allies. ]
Maybe. Money's decent. Maybe until I earn enough to replace my gear.
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Yet with all that known, he wouldn't be a bad ally. She knows what he's capable of, he knows the same. Channel that wavelength toward a shared target, they could work together. Military of some type, she's more certain now. Trained, has some control because he's the one that stopped the fight, not her.]
What are you looking to replace? [Ginia stops herself, holds up a hand and pulls a wry smile.] Not looking for a gear list because I won't give you mine, but the basics. I'm looking for sources and I'm not opposed to sharing.
[There's an underlying "but..." in that statement. There always is. Nothing is free in the world.
For now, she leaves things hanging because there are still a few food carts. Judging from the lines, fast and decent too.]
You in a hot dog mood or burritos? Or both, I'm not judging.
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cw: medical experimentation, child death, PTSD
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